


The Blue of Your Veins

by Zai42



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood Drinking, Chair Bondage, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, F/F, Forced Orgasm, Groping, Orgasm Delay, Vampire Bites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27836020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42
Summary: Vampirism suited Rosalyn the way certain colors suited other people.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Vampire/Vampire Hunter
Comments: 16
Kudos: 78
Collections: Consent Issues Exchange 2020





	The Blue of Your Veins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wyvernwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernwood/gifts).



Vampirism suited Rosalyn the way certain colors suited other people. It brought out the flecks of gold in her eyes, accented the high arches of her cheekbones, highlighted the white of her teeth against dark, plush lips. She had always been pretty, but now she was striking, graceful and dangerous like some great cat, predatory and dangerous.

She lisped slightly, when she spoke. Sawyer suspected the fangs were tripping her up.

“It’s so good to see you again,” she said, slinking across the room and sinking gracefully into Sawyer’s lap, twisting a length of her hair around one long finger. “How long has it been?”

“Three months since your funeral,” Sawyer said stiffly. “Could’ve told me you weren’t dead. I wore a suit.”

“I saw,” Rosalyn replied, walking her fingers along Sawyer’s jawline, tracing the shallow veins visible beneath her pale skin. “How have you been, these long months, trying to fight without me keeping you in line?”

Sawyer licked her lips, swallowed nervously, strained away from Rosalyn’s feather-light touch at her throat. “Don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you?” Rosalyn asked, smiling vaguely. She leaned in, and when she spoke, it was in a whisper that made the back of Sawyer’s neck tingle. “All those risks you take on a hunt. All those reckless fights you start. It’s almost like - ”

“Shut up,” Sawyer snapped. She jerked away more forcefully this time, glaring at Rosalyn’s smug smirk. “Don’t. If you’re here to kill me then - ”

“Oh, please, Sawyer, we’ve been friends for decades now, haven’t we? Do you think so little of me?” Rosalyn stood, circling the chair Sawyer was tied to and hovering in her blind spot for a moment before draping herself over her shoulders. “I don’t want to kill you.”

Sawyer let out a slow, steadying breath. “Well you’re going to have to,” she muttered. “You’re not making me one of you.”

“Ooh, what makes you think I want to?” Rosalyn asked. “Never said anything about doing that. Do _you_ want that?” She laughed when Sawyer rolled her eyes. She pressed a kiss to the pulse hammering in Sawyer’s throat and laughed again when that made her jolt. “Why don’t you tell me,” she murmured, her hands dipping beneath the collar of Sawyer’s shirt, “what you want.”

“I want,” Sawyer began, then had to clamp her mouth shut against a gasp as Rosalyn’s cold fingers skirted over the tops of her breasts. “I want you to leave me be,” Sawyer said sharply, speaking quickly so her voice wouldn’t shake. “I _want_ to put a stake in you.”

“No you don’t,” Rosalyn said. Her palm slid across one of Sawyer’s nipples, her fingers groping lightly at the small swell of her breast. “I can smell it when you lie to me now, Sawyer.” Her free hand tangled in Sawyer’s hair, pulled her head back so the line of her neck was exposed. Her lips brushed against her pulse point, barely enough contact to call it a kiss, and Sawyer’s breath caught in her throat, her fingers tightening on the arms of the chair. Rosalyn’s lips, cool and soft, curved into a smile against Sawyer’s skin. “Your heart is hammering. You seemed worked up.”

“Shut up,” Sawyer said again, with less conviction this time. “You’re a monster, you sold out everything to become a monster, I - ” Her voice cut off with a strangled yell as Rosalyn’s fingers tweaked a nipple. “What do you _want?”_

Rosalyn stalked around the chair again, leaving Sawyer’s shirt unbuttoned and shoved aside to expose her chest to the cool air. She went elegantly to her knees and parted Sawyer’s thighs with gentle and unrelenting pressure. “I just want you to be honest with yourself, Sawyer,” she purred, pressing a kiss to Sawyer’s knee. She leaned in, her nose pressed against the junction of Sawyer’s legs, and inhaled deeply, grinning widely as Sawyer tried to squirm backwards. “Your tastes have always tended towards blood and darkness. You don’t have to deny it anymore. Who are you even lying for?”

Sawyer tipped her head back and stared at the ceiling, jaw clenched tight. Rosalyn’s fingers danced up her thighs then rubbed slow and teasing over her inseam, a maddening pressure against her cunt, too light to be satisfying, too hard to be ignored. “Not all of us,” Sawyer said through her teeth, “are willing to throw our morals aside just to have something we want.”

“So you want this?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Rosalyn laughed, and Sawyer closed her eyes at how achingly familiar it was. You weren’t supposed to get attached to your hunting partner, for just this reason, this exact scenario - just in case they came back one night and weren’t your partner, anymore. You were supposed to be able to kill them without hesitation. Sawyer, however, had hesitated. Sawyer had gotten attached. Sawyer had seen her dead partner, cloaked in shadow and with the glint of fangs in her mouth, and for just long enough, she had been happy to see her instead of rightfully wary, and now she was at Rosalyn’s mercy.

She had been partners with Rosalyn long enough to know her mercy was in limited supply.

Rosalyn’s fingers tugging open her jeans snapped Sawyer back to the present. “Rosalyn,” she said tightly, “don’t - don’t do this.”

Rosalyn looked up at her, a smile playing over her lips. “I told you I can smell when you lie,” she said. “You don’t want me to stop.”

Sawyer heaved a sigh and then, in a flurry of violence, surged forward, chair and all. She managed to slam a shoulder into Rosalyn, knocking her back, but before she could regain her balance or break free of her bonds, Rosalyn was back at her throat, snarling, backhanding her across the face hard enough that she fell backwards. She landed on her side, legs splayed awkwardly around the seat of the chair, and Rosalyn grabbed an ankle and held her wide open as she leaned in close. “Oh, _Sawyer,”_ she breathed, leaning in close, bearing her to the floor. “You’re so _predictable.”_

Sawyer snarled, but the awkward position she was in reduced her struggles to useless squirming. Rosalyn tugged at the waistband of her pants and they tore, the sound of ripping denim too loud in the quiet room. She rubbed bluntly between Sawyer’s legs and smiled viciously. “You’re so wet,” she whispered. She thumbed over Sawyer’s clit through her underwear, grinning as she jolted. “Do you want me to hit you again?”

“Goddammit,” Sawyer hissed.

Rosalyn laughed and laid herself over Sawyer’s body, a knee pinning one leg to the floor, the other leg held away from her in an uncompromising grip, her fingers pinching roughly at Sawyer’s clit through her underwear. Sawyer struggled to keep her hips still, gritting her teeth and straining away from Rosalyn. “Tell me,” Rosalyn purred. She ran a fingertip along the soft, soaked cotton of Sawyer’s underwear. “You’re so wet. Just tell me you want it and I’ll make it so good for you.”

“Fuck off,” Sawyer grumbled, or tried to grumble; it came out more high-pitched than she’d have liked.

Rosalyn laughed and peppered kisses along the column of Sawyer’s throat, her lips curled in a smile. Her hand worked patiently between Sawyer’s legs, alternating from running soft circles over her clit to squeezing it between her thumb and forefinger to tracing the wet, blood-plumped folds of her cunt. Sawyer squirmed in her grip, her hips screaming with how wide her legs were held open, heat pulsing thickly through her veins as Rosalyn teased her. Every time she came close to tipping over the edge, Rosalyn backed off, her touches becoming feather-light and maddening, waiting for Sawyer’s heartrate to settle before starting the process over again.

Eventually, Rosalyn seemed to grow bored and stood. Sawyer bit her lip to keep from groaning, her hips rolling forward after her hand. Rosalyn smiled down at her, planted a boot on the seat of the chair, and flipped her onto her back. For a brief and dizzying second, Sawyer felt like a tortoise, legs flailing helplessly in the air before Rosalyn grasped both her ankles, settled between her thighs, and peeled Sawyer’s underwear off with her mouth.

“Rosalyn - ” Sawyer began and then broke off with a loud, wavering cry as Rosalyn closed her lips around her aching clit.

She almost didn’t press up into Rosalyn’s mouth. She almost held onto her dignity. Then she felt the cold steel glimmer of her fangs pressed up against her cunt and twitched, biting back a whine, her hips rocking up against Rosalyn’s lips. She could feel her grinning; her low laughter vibrated up her spine in a long wave. “Rosalyn,” Sawyer said again, because she needed to say something and didn’t trust herself with anything but Rosalyn’s name, couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t dissolve into begging and didn’t know what she might end up begging _for_ in the first place.

Rosalyn licked at her slow and deliberate, her tongue flat and wet as she dragged it over her hole, pointed and firm as she circled her clit. Her hands slid down Sawyer’s legs, groping greedily at her thighs, and Sawyer struggled not to hook her ankles behind her head. “Fuck you,” she gasped, back arching up as far as possible, given she was still tied to the chair. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you - ”

Rosalyn laughed as Sawyer babbled curses at her; she pulled off Sawyer’s cunt with an obscene slurp. “Tell me you want it,” she murmured, running a fingertip through the soaked mess between Sawyer’s legs. “You can’t lie to me, Sawyer. Even before I was a horrible monster you couldn’t lie to me.”

“I don’t,” Sawyer said, but she didn’t sound convincing, even to her own ears. “Goddammit, Rosalyn, just - just - ”

Rosalyn flicked her tongue out, gave Sawyer’s clit a playful little kitten lick. “Just?”

Sawyer’s eyes stung with frustrated tears. Her cunt throbbed, slick and aching. She grit her teeth and snarled, _“Please.”_

“That will do for now,” Rosalyn said, smug, and went between Sawyer’s thighs once again.

She moved with purpose now, licking firmly at Sawyer’s clit, sucking it into her mouth, the press of her fangs firm and cool and threatening to turn sharp. Sawyer wavered on the edge of orgasm, breath catching; Rosalyn turned and sank her fangs into the meat of her thigh; Sawyer came as she was bitten, sudden and white-hot. She felt more than she heard herself scream. The pleasure of her orgasm melted smoothly into the sweet endorphin rush of having her blood coaxed from her, Rosalyn’s lips and tongue working against her thigh; Sawyer shivered and moaned, too oversensitive to do much else, and around her the room went grey and faded away.

* * *

Sawyer woke up in her own bed, her head aching. She blinked until her vision stopped swimming, rolled her head to the side. There was a glass of orange juice and a protein bar on her bedside table, beside a post-it note that simply read _See you on your next hunt? ♡_


End file.
